


Everything works in Mysterious ways, Not Just God

by Azile_Teacup



Category: Atlantis (UK TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 03:44:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3104366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azile_Teacup/pseuds/Azile_Teacup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern Au, Jason and Pythagoras and Hercules share a house and are academics. Jason has a headache.</p><p>for hc_bingo prompt: headaches/migraines</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything works in Mysterious ways, Not Just God

Pythagoras is not entirely sure how he ended up sharing a flat in Oxford with Hercules, he thinks it has something to do with the fact that they got drunk together years ago when Pythagoras was a fresher and they were both up in Leeds, and something (more this) to do with the fact that Hercules hasn’t changed a wit, spends a considerable amount of time drunk and found himself out of pocket one month, with five months’ rent due. Pythagoras had bailed him out because he needed a place to live and Oxford, it seemed, has no housing.

Another thing Pythagoras is unsure of is how Jason ended up living there, too. A Masters student from Brooks is not a usual addition to a highly academic household. Though, Hercules’ claim to academia is… perhaps that’s how Jason ended up there. Pythagoras found him passed out on their doorstep one day and it had just kind of grown from there.

Pythagoras is sure of one thing; all three of them are truly pathetic. Hercules is an eternal academic who bounces around subjects, universities and countries but he’s settled in Oxford and is actually going to complete a PhD in sociology, focussing on gender and women’s studies. Because he is in love with Medusa, a lecturer in said subject. Who doesn’t love him back that way, at all. Jason is in love with Ariadne, a PhD student who is highly intelligent, daughter of the Dean of Christ Church, and the TA for Jason’s tutor at Brooks. She might like him, might not, seems to changes her mind regularly and without warning, but cannot ever be with him because she’s ‘from a different world’. Pythagoras thinks that’s bullshit, but he keeps this opinion to himself.

And his love life… well, there’s his long term, long distance relationship with Icarus, the ‘troubled boy’ from college, which is sometimes in existence and sometimes not. Sometimes Icarus is part of his life, sometimes he’s not. Pythagoras sighs, thinking of how ‘not’ Icarus is at the moment, and unlocks their front door.

“Jason, we’re pathetic,” Pythagoras says, dumping his bag and crashing onto the sofa in the livingroom, accidentally landing on Jason’s knees.

“Ow,” Jason mutters, “am sleeping.”

“Well wake up and wallow in our collective misery with me, won’t you? And I’m starving. It’s definitely your turn to get food.”

“Not. Hercules’.”

“When has he ever got food? And no, scavenging in supermarket bins does not count, even if the food is often perfectly acceptable.”

“Yeah, right. I have no money though. I spent it on bailing Hercules out last week, remember?”

“Well I don’t have any, I had to pay that electricity bill and I had to pay Hercules’ share of the rent.”

“I don’t suppose he’ll have any money?”

Pythagoras laughs and Jason gets up, dumping Pythagoras on the floor. He wanders through to the kitchen, scratching his stomach and pulling up his shirt in the process. He looks good, Pythagoras realises. He then realises that he’s watching Jason’s arse and drags his eyes away. They land on a crumpled sheet of paper, in the spot Jason was lying.

Pythagoras turns it over and huffs a surprised breath. The page is split into three, covered in colour and patterns, and there’s a scene playing out across it. Three men fighting a Minotaur, coming out of the blur of patterning.

“What’s this?” Pythagoras asks.

“Huh? Oh,” Jason says, sticking his head back into the room, “just messing around. The fat one is Hercules, the skinny one is you, and the one who just dropped the sword is me. I’ll beat it anyway, though, because I’m the hero.”

“Right,” Pythagoras says, recognising them all, “wait, you drew this?”

“Yes?”

“I didn’t know you could draw!”

“I… yeah, a bit. Is it so surprising?”

“I just thought… um… well. I kind of thought you had just… because you were all sporty and…”

“I’m the big dumb one who plays sports? Gee, thanks.”

“I never said you were dumb. Just… didn’t think you were arty. Can we put this on the wall? The colours would cheer this place up.”

“A woman’s touch?”

“You’re in an offensive mood tonight. First fat comments, now this,” Pythagoras says, deciding to be Hercules because Hercules isn’t here to do his usual telling them off for being berks.

“I have the headache to end all headaches. Do you want toast with a scraping of honey for dinner, or oven chips made out of three very old, very wrinkled potatoes that are sprouting and have a little bit of mould on?”

“Oh dear. I… I’ll call Arkus and see if he can lend me some money. We only have two weeks till term starts and loans come through, right? I can pay him back then.”

“Why would Arkus have money? Isn’t he working shitty underpaid waiting stuff in the north?”

“Yes, but he got the promotion so he’s working shitty underpaid waiting stuff that pays him a little more than he’s used to so he can save a bit, now.”

Pythagoras gets up to find his phone, remembers he has no credit and pushes into Jason’s incredibly messy room to find his instead. When he returns to the livingroom, with Jason’s phone, Jason’s lying on the sofa again.

“Gave up on dinner?” Pythagoras asks, seating himself on the floor by Jason’s head and finding his brother’s number in Jason’s contacts.

“My head hurts.”

Pythagoras reaches out to rub Jason’s neck as he waits for Arkus to answer.

*Hi, I’m on a five minute break so if it’s something long it’ll have to wait.*

“Hello Arkus, how are you? Nice to hear from you. I’m good.”

*Five mins, Thaggy.*

“Alright, Cous Cous. I am ringing… to ask a favour, actually, so I take back the Cous Cous.”

*can’t take it back without a receipt, you could’ve bought it anywhere.*

“Do you have any money this month? We’re incredibly short. Thanks, mostly, to Hercules.”

*I do. I’ll transfer fifty for you, you can pay me back when your loan comes through. I have to go, but I’ll do it now. Bye.*

“Thanks! Best brother ever. I love you, look after yourself. Bye.”

*Bye.*

“Pythagoras?” Jason says, slurring a bit.

“Arkus is going to give us a bit, I’ll go shopping.”

“Kay. Can you… ugh. Lights.”

“I’ll put them off on my way out. You want anything from Tesco?”

“Food.”

“Other than the obvious?”

Jason doesn’t answer, so Pythagoras assumes that’s a ‘no’ and gets going. He gets some bread and frozen pizzas and fruit and then, on a whim, he picks up a packet of Tescos own Ibuprofen. Jason, when Pythagoras gets home again, is in exactly the same place and position.

“Are you alright?” Pythagoras asks, hovering in the doorway, “I got pizza for dinner.”

“I like pizza.”

“Everyone likes pizza.”

Pythagoras retreats to the kitchen. Half an hour later, pizza already cut up and two plates in hand, he returns to find the Jason still hasn’t moved. He dumps everything on the coffee table and crouches by his head.

“Hey, seriously, are you okay?” he asks, threating his fingers into Jason’s hair to check for fever.

Jason grips his forearm but doesn’t answer.

“Headache?” Pythagoras guesses, “I got you ibuprofen.”

Jason shifts so he’s facing Pythagoras and squints, then there’s a twitch that might be a shrug. Pythagoras pulls the medicine out of his pocket and gets Jason’s water off the table.

“It won’t go away,” Jason says, sitting up, “been trying to ignore it all day. Had a nap, didn’t work. Took painkillers, didn’t work. Drunk tons of water, didn’t work.”

“Are your allergies bad?”

“No. Only thing I’m allergic to is sea food.”

“Which, for someone studying marine biology, is ironic.”

“Marine biology rarely involves eating the specimens you’re studying.”

Pythagoras squeezes Jason’s shoulder and Jason leans into him, sighing.

“Do you want something to eat?” Pythagoras asks.

“I’m starving. Pizza?”

“It’s on the table.”

They eat in companionable silence for a bit, but Jason gives in after two slices. From someone who usually polishes off two pizzas whole if he’s allowed, it’s worrying. Pythagoras finishes his own before turning to Jason and examining him.

“Anything other than the headache?” he asks.

“No.”

“Maybe just sleep for a bit. I can tell Hercules to be quiet when he gets in.”

“Oh, he texted. He’s doing his stalking thing tonight and he’s gonna stay with what’s her name.”

“Stalking thing?”

“You know, where he haunts the pubs he thinks Medussa goes in, in North Oxford where she lives.”

“Oh, that stalking thing. Right.”

“Will you… um… tonight?”

Oh yeah. And then there’s that, which really doesn’t help them be any less pathetic. Sometimes, he and Jason will ‘share a bed’ as Jason euphemistically calls it. Jason identifies himself as bi-sexual but he’s always a bit shy about genders other than female. It’s really quite funny and Pythagoras might find it adorable, if he wasn’t head over tits for Icarus. Who he hasn’t seen in ages.

“Of course,” Pythagoras says, “we’ll leaves the dishes for Hercules.”

Pythagoras wraps an arm around Jason’s waist when his eyes slide shut and don’t open again, because Jason has been known to walk into walls when not paying attention. For a graceful, athletic bloke he does have the ability to lose all co-ordination. Especially when thinking about Ariadne.

“What’s she like, at the moment?” Pythagoras asks.

“Her father is, apparently… I’m no peasant, Pythagoras. I never met my mother and my father vanished when I was small, no one knows who they are, I could be royalty for all anyone knows.”

“It’s unlikely.”

“If this were a myth or a fairy tale or something I’d have a blanket that was woven of fine cloth and embroidered in gold, or something.”

“I’ve seen those in Primark.”

Jason lets himself fall face first into bed, but almost immediately gets up and heads out again. Pythagoras sighs, but follows to his own room. Jason snuggles into the double bed and stretches, then goes entirely limp. Pythagoras struggles him out of his jeans and jumper, then gets himself into his pyjamas before joining him.

Another thing Pythagoras doesn’t understand about the world is how Jason can be such a typical ‘jock’ type of person and at the same time be so touchy feely. It’s not with everyone, but with people he trusts, he just sort of glomps on. In bed he’s like an octopus, all arms and legs, face pressed into Pythagoras’s mostly bone-y shoulder.

“Better?” Pythagoras asks.

“Mm. Still hurts.”

“Want anything?”

“Uh-uh.”

It’s not really late enough to go to bed, but Pythagoras is tired enough that he’s content to doze, content to rub Jason’s back and shoulders.

“You know,” Jason says, soft, “I might not be in love with you, not… not like poems. But I do love you.”

“Good. I love you too. Go to sleep.”

Jason does, sighing and settling tiredly. Maybe he is just tired, Pythagoras decides.

It’s dark when Pythagoras wakes up. He’s not sure what wakes him, but Jason’s not in bed. He waits for a bit, but when Jason doesn’t come back he gives in to the slight buzz of worry and gets up. He frowns when he hears quiet voices in the bathroom, but when he pushes open the door it’s just Jason and Hercules.

“Oh,” Pyhtagoras says, “What?”

Jason’s sat on the closed toilet seat, Hercules knelt in front of him, hand on his shoulder.

“I came back early, because Medussa was there and actually talked to me and then went home. Decided to quit while ahead,” Hercules says, beaming.

“I actually meant ‘what’ in terms of Jason,” Pythagoras says, “but, I am glad she gave you the time of day. Maybe now you can finally get over her.”

“Nope,” Hercules says.

“I came to get ibuprofen,” Jason says, “and hit my head on the cupboard door. Hercules heard me cursing.”

He groans and leans forward, resting his head in his hands and his weight against Hercules.

“Come on,” Hercules says, “now that Pythagoras is awake you don’t have to worry about disturbing him.”

Hercules lifts Jason to his feet, grunting with effort and muttering about pizza and chips. He passes him over at the door, leaving Pythagoras to guide Jason’s stumbling steps. He dumps Jason in bed and collapses after him, Jason immediately repeating his octopus routine.

“Now I’m worried about both of you,” Pythagoras grumbles.

“Hercules?”

“Medussa. It’s not like… well. We’ve talked before and I don’t want him over-hearing.”

“Again. I’m fine.”

“You always say that. You said that when you fell off the sofa and broke your wrist.”

“I was embarrassed!”

“I wish Hercules could fall in love with someone more… then again, he might actually finally graduate and find something else to focus on, rather than drinking and trying to seduce everyone and everything.”

“Maybe he’ll have children. Isn’t that a terrifying thought?”

Pythagoras starts giggling, imagining little tiny herculeses running around under foot, and that sets Jason off.

“Ow, laughing hurts,” Jason says, breathless, after a bit.

“Sorry.”

They still for a moment, silent, listening, but the quiet sets them off again.

“God,” Pythagoras says, when he finally gets hold of himself, sobering, “I can’t remember the last time I felt this happy. Even…”

“Even with Ariadne,” Jason finishes, “and Icarus. Yeah.”

“Tomorrow, we need to talk about this.”

“Us.”

“Them.”

“Tomorrow. Right now, my head hurts.”

“Sorry.”

Jason mumbles something about apologising, then shivers and moves closer, face pressing once more into Pythagoras’s shoulder. Pythagoras lifts his hand to massage his scalp in long, smooth movements, soothing. Jason drifts and Pythagoras feels an odd contentment.


End file.
